


Why do you let me stay here?

by je000nghan



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - School, College, Crack, Domestic Fluff, Fantasy, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Crack, Fluff and Humor, Hybrids, M/M, School, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, maybe i’ll have smut eventually or impliedly hah!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-19
Updated: 2019-03-19
Packaged: 2019-11-23 20:45:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18156842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/je000nghan/pseuds/je000nghan
Summary: Prospective student of the clouds’ most eminent academy, Lee Chan, must conquer literal door-to-door quests in order to achieve his sought-after admissions.These doors, however, are a lot more complicated than expected:one day, the door would reveal the academy’s ace, Yoon Jeonghan, trying to swoon the indifferent fairy, Hong Jisoo, with ingenious charms and potions;a little later, it would open to student council president, Choi Seungcheol, stressing over his missing cat-hybrid, “Woozi”;sometimes, the door is ancient and inside are hyperactive manipulators: “BooSeokSoon,” pretending today was a day in the Postclassical Era; or a paint-splattered door designed by artists “The 8” and Kim Mingyu; or maybe, a simple yellow door where the man behind it has zero fucks and calls himself Chwe Hansol;and on other times, the door is but a fence that leads to two other cat-hybrids named Wen Junhui and Jeon Wonwoo, one of whom excretes poison while the other tries to come up with medication.At this point, Chan would rather slave under any of the Earth’s human schools, if not for the fact that he could no long descent the moment he enters a door.Damn it!He should’ve known better.





	Why do you let me stay here?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Chan helps everyone but himself (and one).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you can search for “181231 jeonghan” on twitter for the exact ace!jeonghan that i have in mind ☁︎
> 
> have fun reading!

The high clouds feel extremely lightweight underneath Lee Chan’s soles, carrying his mass with what less-gravitational force holds him balanced atop icy sheets of cirrus nothingness. He adjusts his slick, black tie as he clears his throat, before reaching out to the first door he would be entering today.

Chan was an extraordinary human invited to pursue _also_ extraordinary studies 45,000 feet away from the Earth’s sea level and into the cloud’s most prestigious academy. There’s no way Chan is going to say “no” to that; although, he’s not exactly sure what it was that qualifies him and how he was discovered by the professors of the clouds… but he’s glad he’s invited nevertheless. Besides, more than 50% of the entire human population would _die_ to become a part of the clouds’ ministries.

Everything just seems to be heavenly interesting up there.

 

Now, Chan just has to go through a series of quests before he can finally enter into this tropospheric academy _for reals_ — and by entering, the admissions meant ‘literally opening a number of doors and stepping inside to fulfill tasks that would grant him his scholarship.’

Today, Chan’s door looks very…. _pretty:_ a large french door made out of dark mahogany, with little cherubim pointing arrows upward and are embossed on the bottom of either side of the door, and above them sat their respective fiberglasses that resemble churches’ stained glass windows.

The pretty door opens to a clear garden-like library, bookshelves of different designs are embraced by vines and little flowers predominantly coloured in white and purple.

_“Telekinesis, biiiiiIIIIiiiiIIIIIiiiiiIItch!”_

Chan decides it’s his cue to enter. “Hello?”

“Fuck yes, I opened that door!” celebrates a man standing five feet away from the confused little Lee Chan. “It worked! Come here!”

Chan steps forward, close enough to fully register how _beautiful_ the man before him was: blonde, curly hair that reminds him of the cherubim carved on the door; the clearest skin covering the most handsome face he has ever seen by far; standing 1.78m tall; and clothed in a white and sky-blue ensemble, a thin chain creating accent on his blazer wherein a white turtleneck peaks from beneath it. He has never seen anyone so ethereal, so _angelic._

(Really, had the man not spoken, Chan would believe an actual angel was before him.)

“I learned that myself, I can hear that bitch Matilda _shaking.”_

Chan finds the need to clear his throat once again before speaking, “Lee—”

“Lee Chan, I know,” the man interrupts. “I’m smart, of course I should know.”

Chan now finds the need the apologize. “I’m—”

“Sorry? Oh, there’s no need for that. I’m Yoon Jeonghan, nice to meet you!”

(Chan thinks he’s psychic.)

“I, uhh, I’m supposed to, uhm—”

“Will you hold this for me?” Jeonghan hands out a little pot of moist soil, absent of any seeding. “I need to try something out. You see, I’m trying to IMPRESS A FAIRY,” he explains, screaming the last three words.

Chan looks around when he hears the sound of giggling: first, it rings from his left, and then it fades to his right, until somehow, he thinks the giggles are filling the air above him.

“Damn it, Jisoo! Show yourself, will you?”

Chan doesn’t know who this _Jisoo_ is, but he already feels charmed by the soft sounds of his melodic laughter.

  


☁︎

  


“No, it’s perfect! You can help us!” exclaims a man that has introduced himself to be Seungkwan. “We _need_ that kind of dirt so this whole Thing can be convincing, you know? Imagine: it’s the 16th century and we’re in the Kingdom of Berbania. Seokmin, Soonyoung, and I are on a quest to capture this eponymous magical bird called Ibong Adarna.”

Chan halts from his attempt to wipe off the mess of soil covering most of what was his Previously _Clean_ White Button-down Shirt, and _clean_ black tie. Jeonghan’s attempt at making a glow-in-the-dark yellow elder flower obviously _did not_ turn out well; he could still hear Jisoo’s _wheezing_ when the pot exploded before him, zero pity for the man attempting to grant the fairy’s odd request (Jisoo was, apparently, The Fairy; but Chan is yet to see for himself). Jeonghan had sheepishly sent him out to ‘try another door’ after disclaiming that he had failed on purpose because nothing was more satisfying compared to sound of Jisoo’s laughter. Chan is convinced the smart angel-man was _stupidly_ in love.

Now, he’s more confused than he was the first door. Chan has absolutely no idea what Seungkwan was talking about, but he stopped cleaning the soil from his shirt as ordered and is now apparently idle — Seungkwan says neither three of them “BooSeokSoon” wanted to play the scene where one of them had to be petrified after the magical bird shits on them; and seeing Chan had qualifying dung on his shirt, he now has to play the role of a human stone.

Seokmin, however, becomes bored a little over five minutes from when Soonyoung and Seungkwan started arguing about their fucked up plot of the tale they’re trying to live in.

Poking a finger on Chan’s side stomach, Seokmin whispers, “I told them to try 1983 _Good Morning, Mickey!_ , but none of them thought it would be fun for today. Ugh! We could be whistling cartoon tunes and doing slapstick comedy in black and white and you wouldn’t have to be petrified by now. I mean, look at them!”

Luckily, Chan was already looking front, otherwise, he would have to move a muscle and Seungkwan would condemn him for disobeying his role. Although, it would be nice to be blind from all the chaos of Soonyong and Seungkwan arguing over who marries who in the story because, really, where will they summon the so-called “princess brides” and why is there marrying in the first place? Why was he still on pause when his character has apparently been healed? And why was Seokmin both the hermit _and_ the king?

“I pity you,” Seokmin frowns (and Chan wishes he could frown with him, too). “Wanna escape?”

Chan couldn’t contain his _want_ upon hearing that offer and Seokmin notices when Chan’s jaws tense and his eye twitches.

Leaning forward and ticklishly close to Chan’s ear, Seokmin commands him in a whisper, a word that sounds a lot like Grammy-worthy music:

_“Run.”_

  


☁︎

  


“Oh no,” _The8_ frowns at the tragedy covering Chan’s soiled shirt. “What do we do with you?”

Chan smiles, embarrassed, ready to explain the history of the poop-looking earth on his Previously Clean White Button-down Shirt — but he couldn’t find the moment to speak, not when there’s a never-ending exchange of _“tsk’s”_ coming from _The8_ and Mingyu.

For some reason, when Seokmin permitted him to _run_ , Chan ended up doing the exact slapstick comedy the former had imagined: falling down face-first, his entire body planking over a plain white door underneath his weight. From then, two men introduced themselves as Mingyu and _The8_ (although Chan thinks he heard Mingyu call him something like “Minghao” or “Myungho”), both were devastated because the door had cracked and it was supposed to be their canvas for the day.

“Don’t worry, son,” Mingyu sighs, a sorry smile on his face. “You see, we’re artists, and Ming—”

“ _The8.”_

 _“—The8_ and I can make use of this artistic opportunity.”

“How?” Chan inquires, scared of what Mingyu would suggest in return.

“Give us your shirt.”

 

Twenty minutes later, Chan is body-painted with a nice black “sweater” and Mingyu and _The8_ are busy tie-dying Chan’s Previously Clean White Button-down Shirt.

  


☁︎

  


Chan is extremely cold considering he’s half-naked and standing over an icy blanket of high clouds, but he knocks on the door nevertheless because: 1. he has to finish at least one quest today (nevermind that he had then thought he could complete everything in one go); and 2. he really had no choice, he doesn’t know _how_ to go home.

What was before him now was a smooth, black metal door that pivots upon unlocking and Chan is welcomed by a deep, husky voice that spirits off restlessness more than seduction.

“Come in, come in.”

“Good afternoon, sir. My name is L—”

“It’s the afternoon?! Already?!”

The man’s head pokes from underneath a large and black flushed desk; his hair was more dishevelled compared to what could have been the state of Chan’s head throughout this door-to-door process had he not applied strong wax this morning.

“What time is it?!”

“A quarter over twelve, sir.”

“A quarter over twelve? A _Quarter_ over _Twelve_?! OH MY GOODNESS.”

The man pulls himself upward with his hands clutched down his scalp, his eyes stuttering about different directions on the ground as if looking for something quick and impossible.

“My cat!” he screams, borderline whining into a hysterical cry. “My cat! He’s been missing for six hours already! I can’t, I can’t lose him again! _Six_ hours, Lee Chan! That’s a no-no!”

Chan is surprised the man already knew his name.

“Quick, quick! Help me search for him!”

The man described “our Jihoon” (later, he calls him _“his”_ instead) as a cat-human hybrid with the darkest black hair and the fairest skin, later even boasting that the cat would never have to do anything to maintain his beauty. Chan thinks having innate features like that is a gift (and then he smiles to himself thinking his own skin was fairly smooth as well).

The man, forcing his gym-enhanced Greek god-like built underneath a tiny nightstand by one corner of the disaster of a study room, finally breaks into an abundant of the saddest, _saddest_ tears Chan has ever had to see.

“He keeps escaping, Lee Chan,” the man cries (and Chan tries to ignore the bright, hot-pink underwear exposing through the man’s slacks). “Yesterday he was gone for four and a half hours and only came back to eat! He didn’t talk to me after because he immediately slept, but get this: he slept on the couch! The couch! He wouldn’t even allow me to carry him back to the dorms!”

Chan stood more petrified than he was two doors before. He’s not exactly sure what he must do to console this brokenhearted man.

“Woozi,” the man continues. “That’s what the others call him.”

Chan nods. He remembers this collar that he found hanging on a hook by the lightswitch: a beautiful, black studded leather with a loose pendant spelling out “W-O-O-Z-I” in white-gold letters.

“He used to nap on my lap, you know? And at night, he would even sneak out of the felines’ dorms and sleep over at my unit. Sometimes, roaming guards would catch and scold him, but that didn’t stop him from coming.”

The man finally pulls himself out of his knees and moves to the couch; he invites Chan to sit beside him. Chan almost jumps at the sudden embrace he receives the moment he sits, the man’s weight thrown over his stable chest, sobbing.

“I hate to even consider this, Lee Chan, but what if? What if he’s grown tired of me?”

Chan can’t help but feel his heart sink as the man continues to confide. (He’s also worried about his skin exposing and how half of the man’s face is now covered by his black-painted “sweater.”)

 

Chan leaves around ten minutes, permitted to try another door before the man exhaustedly falls into a deep sleep.

  


☁︎

  
  


Chan is confused the moment he steps out of the crying man’s study, seeing not a single door sitting atop the icy blankets on the high clouds; he feels his chest squeeze in a little panic, feeling lost in such an empty space above the Earth’s ground, and Chan was about to scream for help, but his foot jumps first because a big ball of green fuzzy yarn comes rolling from behind him.

“Hey!” a voice calls from Chan’s rear, sounding so deep, he feels like he’s inside a water-filled dome. “Over here!”

Chan turns around and sees a shiny red-painted fence, enclosing what appears to be a playground for cats; and when he enters, it appears that the playground was a mere lobby and inside is maze of halls that leads to God-knows-what kind of suspicious looking fences of various shapes and sizes behold; beyond which are invisible.

It seems that Chan’s utter interest reflects to his face, and he’s snapped out of his bubble of wonder when another yarn is thrown at his direction.

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll show you what’s inside that fence later,” says one cat-hybrid, making incredibly disgusting sounds of gagging thereafter, trying to cough out an inexistent furball. “And the other fences, sure.”

Chan feels uncomfortable and it’s primarily because he has never encountered actual hybrids before. Although, he must admit, these felines have visuals that can swoon you over and even steal your girls and boys. The gagging cat, for example, had large eyes that sit so perfectly above such a chiseled nose.

“Junhui, would you be careful?!” scolds another and _ahhh,_ he’s the one with the voice deep enough to contrast how high they sat above the Earth’s spheres. “You don’t want to poison our guest on his first day, do you?”

Junhui, as Chan registers, shamefully retreats to a little tent — so little, only half of Junhui’s body successfully hides inside it. Chan doesn’t recognize himself staring at Junhui until the latter felt like explaining.

“I’m like, _so_ tall and this isn’t my tent, you know?”

Chan doesn’t know what to say, so he introduces himself instead.

The deep-voiced cat smiles at him nonchalantly, the kind of smile employees of the Admissions Office had displayed to Chan on the day he enrolled; he takes it as his hopeful sign that he’ll be finally accommodated properly at this moment.

Except, the hope was false and Chan had to leave the playground with literally: a sour taste in his mouth — Wonwoo (as the deep-voiced man introduced himself) had let him test some sort of gooey herbal medicine intended to repel Junhui’s apparently poisonous phlegm, but Chan felt like the gooey substance was the phlegm itself and his violent reaction had Wonwoo sending him out to pursue another door, _you rude ass kiddo! I worked all day for this, at least hide your reaction please! And don’t you dare hurt yourself on your way out, you precious man! Take care! I’m angry at you! Grrrrr!_

 

By the way, Chan swears he had just seen Woozi sitting inside one of the larger tents by a corner in the playground. _Possibly Woozi_ was giving him a judging look, it was hard trying to avoid noticing the stare, but he guesses he can’t blame him — not when his left tiddie was exposed the entire time because his body-painted sweater was cried on. Anyways, he notes to tell the hot-pink underwear man about Possibly Woozi next time.

  


☁︎

  


The skies have turned a little darker by the time Chan steps out and unto the clouds again. He feels a rush of cold spiking his insides with anxiety, and he’s starting to sweat despite the negative temperature. He can’t believe he hasn’t done a single quest! And the night is already approaching! What more, to the tightening of Chan’s guts, is that it _sort of_ feels like there’s one door left and nothing more that he can attempt to pursue for the rest of the day.

Goodness, was he entirely clueless! Not only does Chan not know how to descend, but he also does not know how to attain the bare necessities — food? clothes? a bed to sleep on? some fucking bathroom so he can finally pee because heck, the yellow door appearing before him reminds him of pee and he thinks he actually _has_ to pee.

Chan thinks, _“Fuck it. I hope it’s a bathroom.”_

But nope, nope… nopity nope! It wasn’t a bathroom, not at all. Instead, what welcomed him was a man in a yellow (wow, don’t they just love yellow?) beanie and some round purple sunglasses, chewing on a footlong sandwich because _“Hey, you must be Lee Chan! Welcome to the cafeteria! Come, let’s have dinner!”_ and _“Woaaah. You gotta change your shirt, buddy! Drop by your room first and then we’ll eat some big ass steaks, yeah?”_

It’s official, Chan’s favorite person is Mr. Yellow, the only one who has actually assisted him well today. Anyways, he’s thankful the cafeteria also had a bathroom and its halls lead to a number of doors that beheld respective guest rooms. It appears, Unit 211 was his and all his clothes were there and so much more to keep him from homesickness and the spirit of descending.

 

Perhaps, it’s finally time to take a rest and bring his worries tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey! if you’re reading this, thank you so much for going through those 2k+ words with me. i’ve been thinking about writing this fluffly fantasy au for months already and i’m glad i’m finally able to execute it. did you like it? i hope you did!
> 
> and if you actually did, i’d really appreciate some feedback from you! some kudos & comments, perhaps? let me know if there’s anything confusing about the story so far & which door you’re most interested in? what about the characters? the last door appeals to me personally, and because i’m biased, jeonghan is my favorite! hehehe! what about you? let’s talk, i’d love to talk!
> 
> also, if you’re a reader of my other fantasy fic: Human Eyes/Birdsong, i’ll be updating it again sometime this week or on the weekend & hopefully, regularly soon... along with this one! i’m trying not to throw in promises as i sort of ghosted on everyone for a couple of months before, but hey... i’m back & almost stable, and willing to give you all some consistency!
> 
> i hope you all are doing great and are powering through your days. i believe in you, reader! take care, and see you down the comments or on the next update. hearts!
> 
> (p.s.: shoutout to dulcetshua for helping me brainstorm some of the characters! that poisonous saliva has a history... much to think about. lmao. ilysm! — also, check out her fics, she’s got lots of jihan/yoonhong!)

**Author's Note:**

> [twitter](https://twitter.com/je000nghan) | [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/je000nghan) | [twt filo au acc](https://twitter.com/yoonhong_)
> 
> also, you’re not obliged, but the stressed student that i am would gratefully take a cup of coffee as a form of support: [here!](https://ko-fi.com/F1F7OQ52) you know, if you ever liked my work that much. i’ll drink it well, i promise! thank you ♡


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